


Another Day In The Life Of An Informant

by TMNTLIA



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: As in made live, Broadcasted kidnapping, Cocky Izaya is cocky, Creepy creeps, Gen, Kidnapped Izaya, Kind of as weird as it sounds, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 13:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7053946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMNTLIA/pseuds/TMNTLIA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All is quiet in Ikebukuro until a live recording of a kidnapped Izaya is broadcasted across the city. Who is responsible for this, and why are they doing it?<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Throughout the city of Ikebukuro, things are never usually quiet. If not the two resident psychos fighting in the streets, the gangs, or the business of the headless rider, then the streets would be live with the everyday noise of a city at work.

Today was quiet. For some reason.

If one were to look inside an apartment somewhere in Ikebukuro hiding an underground doctor and his "friend" the headless rider, some would note with glee over the two hooked up in his bed.

If one were to look at the gangs of the city, they would see that there was a large meet in another town, a sort of fight if you will, over territory. Most of the leaders sent representatives to toughen it out.

Now, where does this leave our two scariest men of the city?

Shizuo was currently doing his rounds scaring the life out of people until they coughed up their dues, work going more calmly because the 'flea' had not made an appearance.

...Where was that 'flea' anyway?

If you were to take a powerful satellite or tracking device, you would notice that our informant was not in his ridiculously large apartment. Nor was here somewhere in the streets teasing and prodding some poor soul.

He wasn't anywhere.

But since Izaya does not have anybody caring for him on a daily basis (besides his assistant Namie, but since when does she care?) it would be a while before anybody took note of the absence as something to worry about. Or to care about.

It was only when the square of Ikebukuro went dark and the television screens flickered to a scene of a clearly knocked out and passed out Izaya on a bed that people started taking notice.

Just not in the way he may have preferred.

Izaya slowly rose out of unconsciousness, his head pounding and the smell of chemicals just barely detectable underneath his nose. As he came to, he quickly noticed that he was not where he should have been.

"Hm. I don't believe that I went on a trip anywhere, at least not an expected one. Namie needs me for money, so she's out. Shizu-chan would probably leave me in the street if I passed out, so that's a possibility. Perhaps one of my informees got angry with the facts? Typical of mongrels. When did I last eat? Oh well. I suppose I had better meet my host of sorts".

Izaya slowly stretched out, curling his body into an arch before sitting up and opening his crimson eyes.

He was not met with the expected sight, but he quickly washed the shock out his mind before it made it to his face.

Plastered all around the room were photos. Of him.

Hm.

Our informant looked to his bedside, smelling the familiar smell of the Russian's 'exquisite' cooking. Sure enough, there it was. A large portion of sushi.

"...Well. This person has a more… obsessive nature than any of my previous clients. This one must be farther back, but I cannot recall any of them being like this in nature. This must have happened after the fact. But which one?".

Over his silent musings, Izaya was surprised by the sound of his phone. After a moment of looking around, he saw that his jacket and shoes were sitting on a chair in the center of the room beside a table. He gracefully slipped out of the bed and grabbed his phone out of his jacket pocket.

"Hello?".

"Flea?".

"Why Shizu-chan. Who else would have this number?" he scanned the room, phone in hand until his eyes rested on a steel door. "I don't change my information at the drop of a hat like some people I know. I'm not that unreliable, Shizu-chan".

Shizuo stared up at the large screen with the rest of Ikebukuro. "Flea. Turn around".

Izaya turned and noticed a large camera facing him, rotating to fit his movements. He walked closer, examining the large lens.

"Why, Shizu-chan, did you tell me to turn around? Are you seeing this?".

"Yes, you damn flea. It's up in… everywhere. What the hell are you trying to do this time?".

"This was not my doing you barbarian. Is it really everywhere?".

"I see a T.V. behind you flea. Turn it on".

There was indeed a television sitting in the corner, an old model without a remote. Izaya walked over and turned it on, only to be met with the sight of himself in this dimly lighted room. The image on screen made him chuckle, the camera angle showing off his… assets.

Still laughing, our informant looked up at another camera on the door, a smirk on his face. "Hello out there! How may I help you today?".


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello out there! How may I help you today?".

Izaya's question was met by a slight clicking coming from the small camera. Having enough sense to show suspicion, he quickly took a few steps to the side. Seconds after, a green liquid squirted out of a small hole on the top of the camera, acting similarly to a squirt gun. Hitting the ground, a hiss filled the air as it sunk through the floor. Izaya frowned for a moment, his red eyes glinting in recognition.

"Oh! Mr. Mathers, is that you? After our last encounter, I didn't expect to see you again so soon! How's the wife? Oh, wait. She divorced you, right? You always did have a passion for acid, as you showed me last time, having it turned on you looked rather painful".

Down in Ikebukuro square, Shizuo shook his head at Izaya's bluntness. 'That idiot. Doesn't he have any sense of self preservation?", he snorted. He never was one to hesitate to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. Come to think of it, who knows who would win if he actually went up against a bull. Would the raging animal skewer him alive or would the flea get a lucky shot with his blade? Sadly, he thought, he would probably never know.

"Oh yes. She came to me last winter, asking me to get some proof of your… other interests including your workspace. Besides your business deals she had other suspicions. Funny how she still looked so horrified when I showed her the pictures, she had smelled another woman on you, after all. She just probably didn't think you would use your women on the side as an experiment for your latest renditions. I suppose she had gotten more than she had bargained for coming to me for help. Interesting after that she just up and left. No note or anything. That just made it positively boring, wouldn't you say? I expected grander results".

A growl ripped from Shizuo's throat, automatically searching for a nearby vending machine or stop sign. Some people just rub you the wrong way without doing anything, which, granted, was how this began, but many also give you good reason to loathe them further along the line. For Izaya it seemed that those "hate at first sight" meetings happen whenever he is introduced. After a long night, sitting deep alone in his thoughts, Shizuo wasn't sure whether he should pity the man or not. Were the barriers he has real, his expressions of sure superiority a mask, or his real face? Whenever he thought about it enough, he expressed doubts at whether the informant was a truly human, or a nutcase let loose.

But then came moments like these that made him completely forget about those thoughts and concentrate completely on his desires of killing the man. Someone so manipulative and evil should not be allowed on the streets in his opinion.

Shizuo was shaken out of his thoughts by a sudden crash on screen. The flea was now moved backward, the door previously locked shut wide open. Still backing up, he stuck his hand inside of his jacket pocket and pulled out a blade, pointing it threateningly at the doorway. Unknowingly, the debt collector began to hold his breath. Even if he felt no love for his resident annoyance he wouldn't find his death justified. He subconsciously hoped the other man would make it out of this situation alive.

Sliding into a weaver stance, Izaya stood at the ready. Mr. Mathers was a deranged man that once worked with the yakuza, making different sorts of chemical weapons for them. Nothing resembling an atomic bomb mind you, but a variety of poisons and acids were not out of his range of business. If you wanted to torture your enemies by making them watch their limbs deteriorate, he was the man to go to. Besides his chemical habits, he appeared to be normal on the surface. He had fooled his wife for a few years before she had gone to Izaya with suspicions of him having a woman on the side. She wasn't wrong, but what she has found had ended up to be much worse than ever expected. She feared for her life and ditched town, forwarding letters to a lawyer concerning a divorce. Izaya suspected she had someone forge Mather's signature on the papers but he was never sure. None the less, he was not somebody you would wish to be captured by, as his mind never seemed to be quite stable. Izaya had heard that he had gone too ballistic to continue making weapons deals and the yakuza had dropped his services. He hadn't heard of him since.

Until now, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry! I have had a lot of stuff on my plate recently and have not had the enthusiasm to write. I am not the best when it comes to this, so I tend to write in wacky timelines. I will try to improve on that. (By the way. I don't own Durarara or any of it's characters, only this story's plot.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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